Yearning For Young
by Lord Kristine
Summary: This is the story of Zara Young. This is how she learned what she knows. This is why she feels the way she feels. This is how it all began.
1. Childhood

"Look, Mummy! This one is smiling at me!"

Zara grins as a fat goldfish hovers in front of her, floating in its bowl effortlessly like tiny, orange submarine. Her mother looks down at her with a straight face, somewhat unimpressed.

"Zara, dear, that's what you said about the other five fish. You can only pick one."

Zara pouts.

"But they're all so friendly! How am I supposed to pick my favorite when they all want to come home with me?"

Her mother kneels down beside her and puts her hand on her shoulder.

"Zara, I know you want to be kind to the animals, but think about what would happen if we took them all back to our house. You'd be so busy taking care of them that they wouldn't get enough individual attention, and you'd end up making them feel forgotten. If you pick one, he can be your best friend. You can feed him and play with him and give him all the love he deserves."

Zara stares at the goldfish. It puffs out its cheeks and stares at her blankly with strabismic eyes. He looks pensive, in a way, but also very naïve. Zara is in love.

"I like this one. He's a real gentleman."

Her mother smiles.

"He certainly is. What are you going to name him?"

Zara rubs her chin thoughtfully.

"Don."

"Short for Donald?" her mother asks.

Zara shakes her head.

"No, just Don. I want to give him a name that he'll remember."

Her mother laughs.

"Alright, then. Let's ask the owner to pack him up."

Fifteen minutes later, Zara is sitting in her booster seat with a clear, plastic bag in her lap. Don seems slightly panicked by the moving car, but Zara gives him a reassuring smile as he darts to and fro. When they get home, her mother puts Don in a bowl full of clean, clear water. He tumbles around for a bit after she dumps him in, somewhat disoriented, then turns right side up. At first, he has trouble finding his way around in the confined space, but after a few minutes, he's floating happily. Zara smiles and places her finger on the glass tenderly.

"This is your new home, Don. You're going to love it here."

The fish swims up to her finger and pokes his nose against the glass. Zara moves her hand up and down, watching with fascination as Don follows her fingernail.

"You must really like me!"

The fish opens and closes his mouth stupidly.

"I like you too. We're going to be best friends, you and I. Mummy said so."

Don continues to hover idly. Zara smiles and kisses the glass.

"I have to go to bed soon, but I promise I'll spend all of tomorrow with you. Does that sound good?"

Don does not reply. Even so, Zara can see that he's excited.

"Splendid! Goodnight, Don."

Zara runs upstairs, turning off the light as she goes. Before leaving, she peeks through the railings. She can just make out Don's shadow bobbing up and down lazily in his bowl. Smiling with glee, Zara runs down the hall and gets ready for bed.

The next day, Zara wakes up early to feed her fish. When she gets downstairs, she grabs a box of fish food and runs over to the bowl. Before she can pour any flakes into the water, Zara freezes in horror. Don is floating upside-down, completely immobile. When she gets over the initial shock, Zara begins to sniffle. She reaches into the bowl and scoops out the dead fish. Sobbing heavily, she runs up to her mother's room and wails in agony.

"MUMMY!"

Her mother groans and rolls over in bed, her face shadowed by a tangle of dark hair. She opens her eyes drowsily, wiping drool from the corner of her mouth.

"Zara, go back to sleep. It's not time to get up yet."

When she sees that Zara is holding Don in her palms, her jaw drops.

"What happened?"

Zara whimpers shrilly.

"I went to feed him, and he- and he- _he was dead_!"

Her mother picks up the fish delicately and places him on the bedside table. When she's wiped her hands on a tissue, she sits up in bed and gives Zara a hug.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. It looks like you chose a dud fish."

Zara cries into her mother's shoulder.

"Don was supposed to be my best friend . . ."

Her mother strokes her hair gently.

"Shhh . . . Shhh . . . It's okay. Don't cry. Don't cry, pumpkin."

Zara looks into her mother's eyes.

"If I hadn't picked him, would he still be alive?"

Her mother blinks, then shakes her head.

"No, Zara. Sometimes, things die. There isn't always a reason. It's not your fault."

Zara buries her face in her mother's pyjamas. She rocks her back and forth slowly.

"We can get a new fish, darling. We'll go to the store-"

"No!" Zara cries, "No, we can't go back! What if I kill another fish?"

"You didn't kill him, sweetheart."

"I chose him. He would have been fine if he'd stayed at the shop. My decision made him die."

"Don't you believe that, Zara," her mother says firmly, placing her finger under her chin, "None of this was your fault. Some things are beyond our control."

Zara looks at Don's body. His exposed eye is turned towards the ceiling in an empty stare. She wonders if he was waiting for her to return during his final moments, asking himself where she had gone to when he needed her most. As she imagines this scenario, the tears start trickling down her face harder than ever before.

In this moment, she makes a solemn vow. If making a decision can cause such misery, Zara Young will never choose anything ever again.


	2. Adolescence

Zara has found her talent. Her mother says that everyone is good at something, and the "something" Zara excels at just happens to be singing. Everyone agrees that she sings wonderfully, which is supposedly impressive, as very few people are born with a naturally beautiful voice. Zara, of course, does not care about how rare her gift is. All she wants to do is have fun. That's why she joins choir. If she can enjoy something that she's good at, it's all the better for her.

Choir isn't just a way for Zara to show off her talents, however. It's also a good place to make new friends. One of Zara's best friends is Robyn. Unlike Zara, Robyn is a terrible singer. She's also not particularly bright. Zara once asked her if bats were mammals, and she replied by stating confidently: "No, they're nocturnal!". Despite her obvious lack of intelligence, Robyn is extremely kind (in a naïve kind of way) and full of energy. Her outgoing personality makes certain people uncomfortable, which means that having a friend like Zara is just about the best thing in the world. In fact, she's stated that this is the case several times, and brags about Zara to anyone who will spare the time to listen. She makes up for her motormouth tendencies by being fiercely loyal, like a puppy on steroids. Their friendship is sometimes tested whenever Zara grows impatient, but their feuds never last long. Zara doesn't believe that Robyn could hold a grudge, even if she wanted to.

Although their friendship is generally symbiotic, Zara has to sacrifice certain luxuries to maintain their relationship. First, she forgets about becoming friends with any of the popular girls. Robyn is the polar opposite of them, and gets teased because of it. Second, and an extension of the first point, Zara gives up her chance to ever be popular herself. She knows that she has all the qualifications (good looks, rich parents, etc), but she'd much rather have fun with her not-so-stuck-up friend than hang out with a bunch of preteen glamour girls.

Unfortunately, nothing gold can stay. When it's time to move up a level in choir, Zara's vocal coach informs her that Robyn is being held back, due to her subpar (to put it mildly) ability. She gives her the choice to stay with her, as she knows how close the two of them are. Zara has a week to think about it.

It's the longest seven days of Zara's life. She's never had to make a decision that involved such high stakes. On one hand, Robyn is her best friend, and she knows that it would be wrong to abandon her. On the other hand, it would be humiliating to be held back without reason. Unless . . .

Desperate to justify her subconscious decision, Zara pretends to sing poorly for the rest of the year. It's hard to make herself go off-key on purpose, but she tries her best to sound genuinely awful. Her vocal coach is baffled by her behaviour. She doesn't understand why Zara is suddenly the second worst member of the choir (next to Robyn, of course). The reason is simple: if Zara can convince her teacher that she needs to be held back, she technically won't have to make the decision on her own.

Well, as time goes on, the entire choir begins to lose faith in Zara. She used to be the star of every show, but after a few cringeworthy performances, she's moved to the back of the class. Zara is both proud and ashamed of her ruse. She often hears the other choristers whispering about her. Of course, it's no big deal, since this is how Robyn must feel every day. If she can take the merciless gossip, so can Zara.

But then everything goes horribly wrong.

One morning, Robyn comes to choir practice with terrible news. Zara's face lights up at her arrival (signaled by the clatter of several music stands), but when she sees the remorseful look on Robyn's face, she knows that something of cataclysmic proportions has occurred. It takes a lot to get Robyn upset.

As it turns out, Robyn's family is moving to America. This means that Zara is going to lose her best friend, and to make matters worse, she's still being held back, so her trickery was all for naught. Of course, Zara is less concerned with choir, as it is far more traumatic to think that her best friend will be gone forever. Robyn cries when they see each other for the last time, and Zara tries to reassure her that maybe, someday, they'll see each other again. Comforted by this thought, Robyn says her final goodbye and heads home to pack.

Over the summer, Zara finds that she has no one to keep her company. She spends most of her days alone at home, sitting dolefully on the couch near the window. Her mother tries to cheer her up, but it's no use. Zara invested everything in one friendship, and now she has nothing to hold onto.

Luckily, her neighbours move to a fancier part of town at the end of July, and the new owners of the house have a daughter who is slightly older than Zara. After a bit of coaxing, she agrees to be amicable towards the new girl, whose name is Lottie. Their parents arrange a playdate, and they end up watching The Little Mermaid together. Although Lottie isn't quite as exuberant as Robyn, Zara likes her just fine.

Later that year, when it's time to go back to choir, the students are stunned by Zara's talent. She is bumped up a level, which means that everything has been set right. Somehow, by a stroke of luck, Zara's problems have worked themselves out on their own. This is why she assumes that her inability to choose will always benefit her.

She is wrong.


	3. Youth

Zara has an essay due. It's not even funny how unprepared she is. She's supposed to be writing a critical analysis of Hamlet, but she hasn't even read the entire play yet. She understands very little of this strange Shakespearean language, and her professors are never around to explain it. She seeks help from Lottie, who now lives in her flat as a roommate, but immediately regrets asking her for guidance. She's even more clueless than Zara is, and that's saying a lot.

"I just don't get it, Lottie," Zara mumbles as she flicks through the book at her desk, "What's this whole thing even supposed to be _about_?"

Lottie smiles cheekily.

"Watch The Lion King. It's basically Hamlet with lions and fart jokes."

"You're not helping," Zara grumbles, "Translate this old English into normal words for me."

Lottie rolls over on the chesterfield, letting her arms dangle lazily.

"It's not old English. 'Meremennen dóc cwén' is old English. Shakespeare is just a little fancy, that's all."

Zara gnashes her teeth and grabs at her hair in frustration.

"Yes, well, this 'fancy' language is giving me a headache!"

Lottie stands up and meanders over to the fridge. She grabs an apple and takes a large, messy bite out of it, making Zara shudder with disgust.

"It's simple, Zara," Lottie says, waving the fruit around casually, "The guy can't make a decision, and everyone dies."

Zara scoffs.

"I'm not going to be using that particular phrase in my paper, thanks."

Lottie shrugs.

"I'm just trying to keep things simple. If you look at your problems in a complicated light, you end up like poor Hammy, here."

She picks up Zara's book and flips through it rapidly.

"Death, death, destruction, death. It's no fun. You've got to keep things simple."

Zara grumbles impatiently.

" 'Simple' won't get me an A. I need to be intricate to fool my professors into thinking that I know what I'm talking about."

"But you _don't_ know what you're talking about."

"That's why I need to fool them."

Lottie sits on her desk, knocking over a cup full of pencils.

"Look, Zara, you're overthinking this. Try to relate it to your life. Heaven knows, you never make your own decisions, so this should hit close to home."

Zara frowns.

"I make plenty of decisions! Yesterday, I chose to drink coffee instead of tea."

Lottie gasps and waves her hands dramatically.

"Bloody hell! You're really shaking up the system, Zara. You'd better be careful, or the government will get on your case."

Zara sighs and places her cheek on the table. Her hair snakes out like spider legs, hissing across the paper delicately as she moves. The idea of failing her schoolwork is weighing down on her so much that she can almost feel it in real life.

"I'm going to fail."

"So what? Everyone has a bad day once in a while."

"Maybe _you_ do, but I'm not used to failure."

Lottie grunts.

"Well, nobody's perfect. What goes up must come down."

"I'd rather not, though."

Lottie finishes her apple and tosses the core across the room. It lands in the sink. Zara turns her head and frowns.

"I'm going to have to clean that up later, you know."

Lottie snaps her fingers.

"Oh, that reminds me: I'm going out with Percy tonight. Can you do the dishes while I'm gone?"

Zara groans miserably.

"I have to finish my essay."

"Yes, but that won't take all night, will it?"

Zara narrows her eyes.

"It very well could, at this rate."

Lottie hums.

"Well, in any case, if we decide to come back to the flat, can you go out for a minute and-"

"Not a chance. The last time I left you two alone, you decided to shag on my bed."

"It's a lot cleaner than mine . . ."

Zara growls in frustration.

"Please, for the love of everything that's good and holy, do not shag on my bed . . . or in the bathtub or in the kitchen-"

"I get the idea."

"-or in the closet or on the floor-"

Lottie cuffs Zara lightly.

"You're too uptight, you know that?"

Zara gives her a serious look.

"I just want to do well on this assignment, and I can't succeed if I have to listen to your very distracting noises, which are unusually loud, by the way."

"The walls are just thin."

"Regardless, I don't want to listen to that kind of stuff tonight. I have to give this paper my full concentration, or I'll end up at the bottom of the class."

Lottie sighs in defeat.

"Fine, fine. But don't spend all night worrying about this essay. Remember: keep it simple."

Zara exhales as her roommate prances out the door.

"How am I supposed to keep things simple when the world is full of complicated decisions?"

Zara spends all night on the essay. Well, actually, she worries about it for most of the evening, then finishes the paper in an hour or so. She doesn't do too terribly on it, either, but she would have preferred to get something a little higher than a B. When all is said and done, it really wasn't worth stressing over the assignment as much as she did. It was only worth fifteen percent of her grade, and the class was a bit of a blowoff to begin with. Zara hasn't yet declared a major, nor will she ever. College requires a lot of very stressful decision-making, which is not Zara's strong suit. This is why she eventually drops out, against her mother's wishes. Zara reassures her that there are plenty of decent jobs that don't require an education.

A few years later, she finds a perfect career in Costa Rica.


	4. Womanhood

Zara sits at her desk with her hands folded complacently in front of her. She's trying her best not to get upset about her predicament, but she can't help but feel bitter towards Claire for making her put up with this shit like a passive-aggressive bitch. Be that as it may, Zara takes pride in her ability to remain calm in stressful situations. This is a good way to test her skills.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Grady, but Claire isn't available right now."

"Bullshit. I just saw her walk down the hall a minute ago."

"She must have been headed somewhere else," Zara lies, knowing that Claire is currently in her office, probably listening in on the conversation, even.

"Did she put you up to this? Tell me the truth."

Zara sighs in defeat.

"She told me not to let you see her under any circumstances."

Zara can't help but notice that Owen looks a little hurt. He scratches his neck idly.

". . . Did she use those words _exactly_?"

Zara nods. After a moment, Owen takes a deep breath.

"Did she say _why_ she doesn't want to see me?"

"It's none of my business, but I assume it's because your date didn't go so well."

Owen looks offended.

"It wasn't _that_ bad. I mean, it seemed to go by really fast, but other than that-"

Zara shakes her head.

"You should leave her alone. She's obviously not interested."

Owen kicks the ground slowly in a drawn-out motion.

"Well . . . I mean . . . I thought we might have had some chemistry."

"Obviously, _she_ didn't."

Owen bites his lip. Zara is tempted to swat away his hands as he taps his fingers on her desk, but she resists.

"Are you _sure_ she doesn't want to see me?" Owen asks quietly.

"Positive."

Owen sighs.

"Can't she at least let me explain myself? I feel like we got off on the wrong foot."

Zara shakes her head.

"There's no point in trying. She's just not into you."

Owen looks down. When he begins to stare at Zara's ring, she pulls her hand away shyly.

"You're engaged?"

"Yes," she mumbles hesitantly.

"What's his name?"

"Steve," Zara lies, not wanting to feed the conversation with legitimate details.

Owen nods.

"Congratulations."

An awkward silence follows. Zara really wants Owen to leave, but something tells her that he's hoping Claire will change her mind. He's deluded, of course. His eyes flit down to the name on her desk as he prepares to negotiate one last time.

"Look, Zara, this is really important. I'm begging you: let me see Claire. All I need is five minutes. I have to sort this out."

Zara looks at him with faux pity.

"Sorry. I have my orders. Besides, last time I checked, you two hated each other."

"Yes, but that was before-"

Owen grabs his head and winces in pain. Zara is a little frightened by his odd behavior.

"Is something wrong?"

Owen starts breathing unsteadily.

"I . . . I think I lost my train of thought."

Zara nods.

"Well, maybe you should follow it out the door."

Owen sighs.

"Alright. Fine. I'll go. I'm bound to run into her eventually."

That, Zara is okay with. As long as the situation is beyond her control, Claire won't be mad at her.

"Before I go . . ."

Oh, tremendous. He isn't done, after all.

". . . tell Claire that I'm sorry if I was being an ass. I don't know what I did wrong- don't tell her _that_ part- but I'm going to make it up to her. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I really like her. I don't know why- don't tell her that part, either- but something about her just makes me feel . . . um . . ."

 _Horny?_

". . . good, I guess. All I want is a second chance. You got that?"

Zara nods evasively.

"Mhm. Heard it loud and clear."

Owen frowns.

"You're not going to tell her, are you?"

Zara shakes her head.

"No, sorry."

Owen clenches his teeth.

"Zara, this is important. This is my _destiny_."

She can't help but giggle at his optimism.

"Oh, you're too funny. You don't know Claire very well, do you?"

"I know _plenty_ about Claire," Owen snaps.

"What's her favorite kind of music?"

"Disco."

"Wrong. She never listens to music."

Owen raises his eyebrow.

"I know for a fact that she likes disco."

Zara snorts.

"You're mistaken. Claire doesn't tolerate music in the workplace. The other day, I was playing Queen, and she threatened to smash my machine with a hammer. Claire isn't exactly a fun-loving person."

"She _is_ ," Owen proclaims with absolute certainty, "Deep down, I know she can be just as laid-back as any-"

Zara holds up her hand to silence him.

"Alright. Whatever delusions you've created, I'll let you believe in them. Just don't make this my problem."

Owen frowns bitterly.

"It could very well _be_ your problem, since you're trying to keep us apart."

Zara gives him a mocking smile.

"Right. Destiny. Tell me this, Prophet Grady, if this is your destiny, why isn't she here talking to you herself?"

"Because you're preventing it."

"Wrong. There's no such thing as destiny. If there was, your sweetheart would be walking right through that-"

Zara is interrupted when the door that leads to the second half of the hall swings open violently. Standing in the doorway is a large man who looks both jovial and sinister, if that's even possible. He makes mock-punching gestures at Owen and gives him a wide smile.

"Hey, buddy, is there a reason you're wandering around aimlessly instead of giving me a demonstration? The raptors are waiting, so why are you just sitting here when you should be working?"

Zara smirks.

"He's on a quest to win the heart of Claire Dearing."

Owen shoots her a furious glare. His boss chortles cruelly.

"Oh, that's wonderful. Has she set up a restraining order yet?"

Owen looks down.

"The raptors won't be ready until noon. We just fed them."

"Well, I'm sure you could-"

"I'm going through with the presentation, Vic. The results will be the same. You won't like it."

His boss grunts dismissively.

"Alright, whatever you say. Don't dawdle."

He struts out the door, leaving Owen behind. Zara silently wills him to follow his boss, but he doesn't. Turning around slowly, he leans forward and speaks in a dangerous tone of voice.

"I'm coming back tomorrow. Don't try to keep me away from her."

Zara shrugs passively.

"It's not my decision."


	5. Adulthood

"Oh, come on. There's no way you're only half dressed. If it doesn't fit, don't buy it."

Lottie is sitting outside of a change room, where Zara is struggling to squeeze into her outfit. She's being a supportive friend, but there's a hint of boredom in her voice. Zara grunts in frustration.

"You're right," she calls from behind the door, "This is definitely too small. Should I try the next one?"

Lottie rolls her eyes.

"Zara, I flew all the way from London to see you, and I'm not leaving until you've found what you want."

"Alright. I'll give it a go."

Lottie lifts her phone when she hears a light rustling behind the door. Scrolling through her emails idly, she leans back in her chair and sighs.

"If this one doesn't fit, we'd better-"

Before she can finish, the door opens. Zara steps out slowly, a white train dragging behind her. She walks up to the segmented mirror and stares at her reflection with awe.

"This is it," she whispers, "This is the one."

Lottie stands beside her and smiles.

"Zara, you look beautiful!" she whispers.

They share a hug. By the end, tears are forming in both of their eyes. With a light sniffle, Zara turns back to the mirror.

"I'm getting married. It just hit me. I'm actually getting married."

She stares at her reflection. Somehow, this feels right. Everything Zara has ever done has been leading up to this moment. This is her destiny. From the delicate veil to the waves of white fabric hanging from her shoulders, there is not a single part of this dress that feels wrong.

"I'm going to be a wife . . ."

Lottie wipes her nose.

"You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

Zara shakes her head, keeping her eyes fixed on her reflection.

"No. This is what I want. This is what I choose."

Zara doesn't even realize that she's broken her own rule. In her mind, there is no doubt that this is the best possible decision anyone anywhere has ever made in the history of the universe. Nothing can go wrong. Nothing.

Zara is screaming.

Caught in the grip of massive talons, Zara is lifted into the air. It feels like she's bouncing up and down, and she can't decide whether it would be worse to be carried off by her attacker or to be let go. It's hard to tell where she'd end up if she were to fall, because now she feels something holding onto her ankles, which means that the real "down" is above her head.

She screams at the top of her lungs, vaguely aware that the ground is growing smaller. In this panicked state, the world around her is a sphere, like one of those sky-domes in a museum. There is no dimension and no sense of space. Only a flurry of color and sound.

When she has reached a high point in her flight, Zara drops. She doesn't know how it happens, but all of a sudden, she's flipping head over heels towards something very blue. That "something" is water. Zara breaks the surface, feeling the spray of liquid stinging at her nose and creating a sharp jab in her forehead. She's in immense pain.

But she's alive. If she can make it to the surface-

Something clamps around her body. It's like a giant vise, only a hell of a lot sharper. Zara was bitten by a macaw once. She remembers feeling intense pressure instead of the cutting sensation she had been expecting. This experience is somewhat similar to that, only a million times worse.

Zara doesn't know what's happening anymore. Sometimes, there is a beak clamping around her, and sometimes there is not. Sometimes, she can breathe, and sometimes, she cannot. Sometimes, she is above the surface, and sometimes, she is not. She hates the uncertainty of what's coming next. She wants to choose one state of being. She wants to be free from the snapping beaks, able to breathe, and above the surface. She wants to choose. But she can't. All she can do is scream. She's too frightened to do anything else. She can barely even think.

Then, for a moment, the world stops. Zara's life flashes before her eyes in reverse. She sees Lottie, her fiancé, her mother, Robyn . . . and Don. Don, the goldfish, whom she had only known for a day. The image of her best friend lying on his side, staring blankly at the ceiling, is burned into her mind's eye with stunning detail. She can remember every shade of his scales, every highlight on his lustrous, orange body. There is an abundance of life in this image of death.

Zara is going to die. She has only realized this now. Just like Don, she's going to have that vacant stare. She will cease to be alive. There won't be a wedding. There won't be thoughts. There won't be anything. It's over. Her life, her existence, everything that she's ever known, is coming to an end.

Zara does not have time to cry. If she had even a second more, tears would be flowing down her face, disappearing in the troubled water. Instead, she feels herself being pushed upwards by something massive. She is moving towards one of the flying monsters. She doesn't care. She's more concerned with the crescent of light in front of her. It's narrowing like a closing door. Had she been thinking straight, Zara might have realized that she was looking at the shape of a titanic mouth. Strangely enough, to her, it looks like a window. A wide, uneven window lined with crooked teeth.

And then it snaps shut, leaving Zara in complete darkness.

Although she can no longer see, she can _feel_. She can feel every minuscule twitch of the monster's tongue beneath her left wrist. She can feel her shirt bunching up as she slips into the abyss. She can feel sharp talons digging into her neck, and she can feel blood trickling down her shoulder. She can feel her leg scraping across the teeth of the sea monster, and she can feel her skin tearing apart like thick, peeling wallpaper.

The talons tighten, and the teeth clamp.

Then she feels nothing at all.


	6. Afterthoughts

Zara is in a nightmare. Or maybe it isn't a nightmare. Maybe it's real. But it can't be, because she died. Did she really? Yes, she remembers dying, but she also remembers waking up. Her heart started beating again, and she was suddenly different.

There is something very un-right about her. She's still herself, but she also isn't. She is many things at once. She is awake, but she is sleeping. Reality is a dream. Or maybe it's the other way around.

She gets flashes of memory once in a while. It's hard to hold onto them. Just when she thinks that she's on the right track, she loses whatever it was she was thinking about, and slips back into her nightmare.

There are other people in her dream. They are people she knows, but they aren't quite themselves. Or maybe they are. But she's chasing after them, and why is she doing that? Half the time, she thinks she's trying to pursue someone familiar, to hold onto them so that they can make her right, but when she reaches them, she's angry, and-

Why is she doing this? Why is she doing _what_? What was she thinking? She's losing her thoughts. She can't think-

They're running away. They're terrified. Zara was terrified too, not so long ago. Wait, who is Zara? Zara is Zara. It's her. She's forgetting her own name. Does she even have a name? What is she? Wasn't she human? Why are they running?

Zara wakes up, or maybe she imagines that she wakes up. She thinks that she's talking to her friends, warning them to run while they still can, but it could be her imagination. She's in her dream again, so it probably didn't happen.

She attacks.

Wait, she's not supposed to be attacking. She likes her friends and-

She attacks again.

No, this isn't right. She's not a monster. Or maybe she is. What _is_ she?

They're talking to her. She can tell because they're saying "Zara", and that is her name. She's sure of it. She won't let that go. Her name is Zara, and wasn't she supposed to be getting married? . . .

She is about to attack, but swerves away quickly. She should be fighting this. Why? They're her friends, and she doesn't want to hurt them. She's not a monster. So, why does she look like one? Maybe she _is_ a-

No.

 _No_.

Fight it.

Zara is not a monster. She is Zara, therefore she is not a monster.

She wants to fight-

She wants to attack.

No, she doesn't.

Someone is telling her to do it. She doesn't have a choice.

No.

 _No_.

That's not true. She always had a choice. She just didn't want to choose, because it was too difficult. But this decision shouldn't be hard. If she is Zara, she is not a monster. A monster would attack her friends. Zara would not. Zara would fight whatever is controlling her. Zara would try to win.

And she does.

She fights it. She fights it, and now she's sure that the dream is not what she wants. In her dream, she's a monster, and she tries to hurt her friends. She needs to wake up. She needs to stay awake. She needs to-

Before she can stop herself, she lunges at a colorful dinosaur and swallows him whole. At first, she doesn't mind, but Claire- and yes, her name is Claire- runs up to her, and suddenly, the dream fades away.

"Zara? . . . Are you okay? . . ."

She's more than okay. She's free. But she's done horrible things, hasn't she? Part of the dream was real. She didn't wake up in time. This is why she has to break her rule.

If she doesn't make her own decisions, someone else will make them for her.

 **The End**


End file.
